


Auld Lang Syne

by noonaofdarkness



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Drunk Joonmyun Almost Getting Electrocuted, Ex Sex, In March, M/M, New year sex, Sad Attempt at Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 06:24:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10077317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noonaofdarkness/pseuds/noonaofdarkness
Summary: A New Year’s Eve party brings past lovers back together. Can they get it right this time?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Well, this fic is like two months late. Ooops. Thank you to @singilus for her hand holding, and beta reading. Also thank you to @suhodorable! The second half is un-beta'd for now, so forgive any silly typos. Musical inspiration drawn from Banks’ “Lovesick.” And Auld Lang Syne, of course.

* * *

_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,_  
_And never brought to mind?_  
_Should auld acquaintance be forgot,_  
_And days o’ lang syne!_

 

It’s barely 11pm, but Chanyeol is convinced half of the guests at Jongdae’s New Year’s party are already well on their way to belligerent. He’d timed his arrival perfectly; popping in at his parents' party to give his greetings before making his way across town to Jongdae’s place. The hour ‘til midnight doesn’t seem so daunting in the company of coworkers and friends, especially because he won’t be too drunk by 11:30 to make it to midnight. 

Jongdae greets him with a tight hug before instructing him to throw his coat in the already packed coat closet. 

“Took you long enough to get here.” Jongdae teases as Chanyeol tries to find a free hanger in the closet for his coat. “Everyone is about three drinks ahead of you by now.”

“Had to swing by my parents' first.”

“Gotcha.” When Jongdae smiles, the drunken flush of his cheeks becomes more pronounced. He’s obviously been having a good night so far. Jongdae always goes all out, and as Chanyeol surveys the crowd, he realizes this New Year’s party is no exception. Streamers hang from the ceiling, there’s a table of tacky party favors, a full bar on the kitchen island. 

“Well, I have to go be a good host.” Jongdae pats Chanyeol’s back one final time. “But help yourself to any favors. And, if you see Joonmyun, tell him there will be _no_ karaoke until after midnight. I hid the machine in my bedroom closet. I don’t need him drunkenly electrocuting himself trying to set it up.”

Chanyeol laughs. He’s very familiar with Joonmyun’s intoxicated obsession with karaoke. And while Jongdae rolls his eyes in annoyance, Chanyeol catches the fond smile on Jongdae’s lips. 

 

Chanyeol walks into the small crowd, half-full of familiar faces. He exchanges pleasantries with Irene and Seulgi as he picks up a flute of champagne from the bar — pink of course. He watches in amusement as Jongin from the accounting department tries to sneak a party hat atop Kyungsoo’s head in the kitchen. Jongin almost succeeds until Kyungsoo delivers a quick elbow to his ribs with a scowl. 

While his plan had been to arrive sober, he’s quickly realizing that he might be a little _too_ sober for everything that’s happening around him. There’s too many new faces, too much drunk laughter. Chanyeol doesn’t know where to focus his attention, doesn’t know which small conversation bubble would be the easiest to slip into. It’s hard to be subtle when he’s six feet tall and horrible at small talk. 

He could be super lame and sit alone on the couch and wait for someone to drunkenly ramble at him. That’s always his go-to in situations like this. 

He’s just taken his first decided stride across the living room when, thankfully, Joonmyun intercepts him on his way to the couch. Joonmyun is possibly even more wasted than Jongdae, if the way he’s swaying from side to side is any indication. 

“Hello Chanyeol. It’s nice to see you here.” How Joonmyun always manages to be so polite, even when shitfaced kind of amazes Chanyeol. The man can be drunk of his ass, and will still properly greet everyone in the room with a bow and a friendly smile. 

“Having fun tonight?” Chanyeol asks though he already knows the answer. 

Joonmyun’s eyes scrunch shut as he answers with a smile. Joonmyun’s kind of adorable when he lets loose; no wonder he has Jongdae wrapped around his finger. 

“I’m counting down ’til midnight. I’ve already chosen my song for the occasion.”

“Of course you have,” Chanyeol laughs out. 

A small movement behind Joonmyun catches Chanyeol’s eyes. He glances over Joonmyun’s shoulder into the crowd and his heart nearly stops in his chest. A familiar face is staring right back at him, eyes equally blown in disbelief. 

“Any idea where Jongdae hid the karaoke machine?” Chanyeol’s too distracted by the sudden appearance of Byun Baekhyun to really register Joonmyun’s question. The room blurs around him, the mindless chatter being drowned out by the nervous beating of his own heart. 

“Uh, I think it’s in his bedroom closet,” he mumbles out. He places a hand on Joonmyun’s shoulder in farewell as his feet push him forward. 

Byun Baekhyun looks exactly as Chanyeol remembers him; better if possible. His hair is a slightly different shade of light brown, but his eyes are just as expressive, that permanent half smirk on his lips like always. He’s wearing one of those stupid party hats with ‘2017’ written on it in offensively shiny lettering. And he still looks good. 

Before he realizes it, they’re nearly toe to toe. Baekhyun looks Chanyeol up and down before smiling to himself and shaking his head in disbelief. 

“You know Jongdae?” Chanyeol asks. No ‘hi.’ No ‘surprised to see you here.’ The surprise is probably already written all over his face. 

“College friend.” Baekhyun takes a sip of his drink, maintaining eye contact with Chanyeol above the rim. “You?” 

“Former co-worker.”

“Small world.” 

“How… how have you been?” Chanyeol ventures. 

Baekhyun cocks his head, like he hadn’t anticipated the question. “Just surrendered my best bottle of vintage wine to Jongdae as a hosting gift, but other than that small heartbreak, I’m good. You?”

“I’m good. Great.” 

“Good to hear.” 

Chanyeol should mingle more, he doesn’t need to stand here and be hopelessly awkward with someone from his past. They can share their greetings and move on, no harm no foul. He sees Yixing over in the corner, and knows they could easily chat. Instead, he directs another observation at Baekhyun.

“Jongdae’s place is pretty nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this clean…”

Baekhyun’s brows scrunch in amused judgement. “You’re still shit at small talk, I see.”

Chanyeol feels his cheeks warm as he manages a nervous laugh under his breath. He’s never been great with words. Baekhyun, on the other hand, had been a champion of communication: his tongue sharp, his fingers nimble as they’d played with the buttons of Chanyeol’s shirt in the company bathroom. 

“There’s a reason I don’t make sales pitches; I just write the contracts.” 

“Incredibly iron-clad contracts, my company is learning the hard way.” Baekhyun acknowledges with a sly smile. 

Right, their companies are still contracted to one another. Chanyeol has tried not to think about that for the past few months, focusing on the new negotiations, and not the memory of Baekhyun sitting across the conference table from him in his immaculately pressed suit -- the small smile that played on Baekhyun’s lips when the cool sensation of his toes tickled Chanyeol’s calf by surprise and he jumped in his seat, concealing his yelp with a cough. 

It’s been nearly a year since then, but Chanyeol can still feel the chill that ran up his spine. He can still hear Baekhyun’s quiet giggle while his eyes stayed focused on his boss, Seohyun, at the head of the table. Looking at Baekhyun now, he sees the same confident smile on his face that he’d had the first time they locked eyes. Chanyeol had been the fumbly company lawyer, the perfect prey for someone like Baekhyun to single out. 

“How is that going? Construction should wrap up soon, right?” 

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, a habit Chanyeol had almost forgotten he has. “Are we really talking business at a New Year’s party?”

“What else is there to talk about?” 

Baekhyun shrugs, pursing his lips in thought. “We’re not exactly strangers, Chanyeol. Maybe I want to know if you ever got around to changing that light bulb in your laundry room, or if you found the right allergy medicine so that you can pet your sister’s puppy without breaking out in hives.”

It’s a horrible habit of his, the nervous over sharing. It’d be impossible to make a list of all the mundanely awkward things that had tumbled out of Chanyeol’s mouth when Baekhyun crowded closer. A part of Chanyeol wants to think that Baekhyun remembers too much, but it’s not like he doesn’t have a mental file of Baekhyun-isms in his mind, too. Did Baekhyun finally buy a fitted sheet? Does he still live next door to the guy from China who likes blasting rap music at 2am? Is Baekhyun seeing anyone?

“Turns out it wasn’t the light bulb that was the problem in the laundry room, it was a wiring thing. Still not fixed.”

“Riveting.” Baekhyun says into the rim of his glass, his smile contradicting the sarcasm of the statement. “And the puppy?”

“Still allergic. But I remember to keep antihistamines handy when I visit.” 

Baekhyun nods again. “Poor sneezy.” 

Chanyeol shuffles his feet, shrugging off the familiar nickname -- one he embarrassingly earned after sneezing mid-orgasm -- and trying not to think about the strange sensation it stirs in his gut. “Wow, we’re both really shit at small talk.” 

It’s a lie, because Baekhyun could have anyone in this room engaged in conversation. He could charm anyone with his bright smiles and that sharp laugh that echoes off the walls. Chanyeol doesn’t want to let him go just yet though, he wants some of Baekhyun’s attention for as long as he can get it before Baekhyun dances out of his life once again. 

“Who do you think will puke first in this room?” Baekhyun changes the subject, surveying the crowd. Chanyeol remembers how fond Baekhyun is of betting on anything and everything: how long it would take their bosses to notice they were missing from the conference room; playing chicken with their hands sliding up each other’s thighs under the table. That’s Byun Baekhyun, always pushing, always testing. 

“Jongin looks like a pretty safe bet. He’s been staring at that couch pillow for a good five minutes.” 

Baekhyun’s light laughter is so familiar in Chanyeol’s ears. It curls around his thoughts, loosening the knot in his stomach little by little. He’s always liked Baekhyun’s laugh, the way it echoes even when he’s trying to be quiet, the way Baekhyun would giggle into his ear when Chanyeol accidentally tickled his neck with his fingers. 

“My money's on Sehun — the tall guy over in the corner. He’s never been able to hold his alcohol since college. And by the looks of it, he hasn’t been going easy tonight.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t know who Sehun is, but he’s pretty sure it’s the man currently leaning against the wall, party hat tilted precariously on his head as he appears to be talking to Jongdae’s standing lamp. 

“Alright, loser owes 10,000 won?” Baekhyun shifts his champagne into his right hand before raising the flute for a cheers. The glasses clink, and Baekhyun smirks. Chanyeol has a nagging feeling he’s already lost. 

Baekhyun’s not slurring like the other guests, he’s standing steady, fully aware of his every movement. “You seem pretty sober,” Chanyeol observes. 

“You know me, I’ll wait to go hard until after midnight.” Baekhyun winks exaggeratedly, and Chanyeol rolls his eyes at the entendre. He smiles back with a breathy laugh.

Jongdae’s loud voice interrupts them before Chanyeol has a chance to respond to the challenge in Baekhyun’s eyes. 

“Baekhyun!” Jongdae bounces over, the liquid in his glass sloshing dangerously close to the rim. “I see you’ve met Chanyeol.”

“I have.” There’s more to Baekhyun’s words that Jongdae doesn’t quite catch, obviously none the wiser. A sly smile pulls on his lips as he nudges Baekhyun’s ribs. 

“Maybe you’ve found your New Year’s kiss then, too?” Jongdae teases playfully before the sound of a microphone screeching pierces through the crowd. 

All eyes fall to Joonmyun by the entertainment center, cords wrapped haphazardly around his arm while he tries to connect the HDMI cord of the machine to the television. 

Jongdae shakes his head in half amusement before a realization hits him and he turns with his eyes zeroed in on Chanyeol. “You’re the only one who knew where that machine was,” he accuses. 

Chanyeol moves to subtly position Baekhyun’s body between himself and Jongdae, afraid of the scrutiny in the latter’s gaze. 

“I might have…. let it slip,” he stutters out. He doesn’t tell Jongdae that when he saw Baekhyun, his mind short circuited. He doesn’t even really remember what he had said to Joonmyun, all he remembers is how his feet led him across the small living room the second he’d locked eyes with Baekhyun. 

“I’m going to kill you,” Jongdae threatens. Chanyeol’s attention is once again pulled to the way Baekhyun laughs, his amused gaze switching between Chanyeol and Jongdae. The microphone screeches as Right Said Fred begins to play through the TV in competition with Jongdae’s already running playlist. It sounds horrible, but Baekhyun’s still laughing to himself and it’s melodic in Chanyeol’s ears. 

“First, I have to deal with Joonmyun. Then, I will deal with you,” Jongdae warns lowly before he heads towards Joonmyun and the tangle of cords that surround him. “And you definitely shouldn’t kiss him at midnight, Baekhyun. I change my mind.”

A small part of Chanyeol is genuinely afraid of Jongdae’s revenge, but he also knows Jongdae is only half serious. After all, Joonmyun is Jongdae’s main weakness. All it takes is Joonmyun’s bright smile as he begins to drunkenly slur into the microphone, and Jongdae’s features instantly soften. Chanyeol’s in the clear for now. 

“Ha, New Year’s kiss,” Chanyeol stutters in Jongdae’s wake, the suggestion still echoing through his mind. He hasn’t had nearly enough champagne to be saying such awkward things out loud, and yet… “What a silly idea.” 

“It’s nothing we haven’t done before,” Baekhyun says nonchalantly. And just like that, Baekhyun shatters the illusion that they aren’t going to talk about it. He brings the elephant right out between them, with a quirked eyebrow and a cock of his head.

“You have a point there.” But still, the idea sounds silly. Yes, they’ve kissed. They’ve done a hell of a lot more than that. But they’ve never kissed in public, they haven’t _spoken_ in a year. There’s no reason for Baekhyun to _want_ to kiss Chanyeol at midnight when there are a dozen other strangers in the room whom he could charm into a friendly New Year’s peck. 

The gleam in Baekhyun’s eyes says something else altogether, though. The room seems to compress around Chanyeol, too many memories flooding back all at once. Baekhyun’s always had a way of making him uneasy, always leaving him unsure of exactly where he stands; where they stand. 

“I think I need some fresh air,” Chanyeol says, looking to the now-empty balcony. 

“Me too,” Baekhyun agrees. Just like that, Chanyeol realizes he isn’t the only one trying to keep the other around a little longer. Baekhyun’s not quite done with him yet.

The December night is chilly, the cold air stinging his lungs as he slides the screen door open. Chanyeol really should have grabbed his coat before stepping out. He watches the way Baekhyun’s shoulders shiver slightly in the breeze; he wants to reach out his arm, hold Baekhyun’s shoulders steady, share the warmth. But now isn’t the time. 

The air is quiet between them as Chanyeol looks out over the balcony. Jongdae’s view isn’t much, but he can see the faint lights of Seoul. He can hear the drunken occupants on the street below, everyone counting down to the new year -- to their own new beginnings. 

“You know, I still have that stupid text message on my phone.” Baekhyun says quietly, breaking the serene air. 

Chanyeol looks over to find Baekhyun already looking at him, his eyes trying to read something on Chanyeol’s face, his mind obviously preoccupied with something. 

“What message?” Chanyeol asks dumbly, holding Baekhyun’s gaze. He steps in closer, chasing the warmth that Baekhyun might give off, chasing the half smile on his lips. 

“ _Let’s end this now. Have a nice life._ ” Baekhyun dips his voice mockingly low. It may not sound anything like Chanyeol’s voice, but the words still pierce him in the gut. 

Chanyeol feels his ears redden. He pulls back. “I don’t think I said the ‘have a nice life’ part.” 

“Subtext.” Baekhyun’s not exactly wrong there. 

“I’m… sorry.” Chanyeol wants to move -- to run away from this conversation -- but his feet remain locked in place. Baekhyun raises an eyebrow with a sigh before he turns his face back to the city sprawled out before them. 

It was four simple words, drunkenly sent at nearly two in the morning the evening they closed the deal with Baekhyun’s company. Four words that ended whatever they had, four words that warranted no response from Baekhyun. A small part of him had hoped that the next morning he’d wake up to a message from Baekhyun, asking to meet up, asking to see him. But there’d been nothing, and Chanyeol’s had to live with the idea of _what could have been_ for months.

But now, Baekhyun is here. He’s looking up at Chanyeol over the railing, his lips tilted to one side in an almost smirk as he studies Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol swallows the lump in his throat, the gaze so familiar. 

“If it helps, I was drunk and cowardly.”

“It doesn’t.” Baekhyun’s lips slip into an almost grimace. He tightens his own arms around his middle, whether to comfort himself or fight the cold, Chanyeol’s not sure. “But, it’s nice to know all the same. I never thought you were an asshole or anything, I just… didn’t understand.” 

But Chanyeol didn’t understand Baekhyun either. He had never known where they stood, never knew if he was anything more than another game to Baekhyun. He’d been so, so infatuated. So infatuated that he’d told himself it was just a fling, hadn’t allowed himself to read more into Baekhyun’s smiles and the way Baekhyun started to linger in his apartment after sex. In a drunken moment of stupidity after the deal closed, he’d decided it would be easier to just end it then than try to figure out what he meant to Baekhyun. (To find out he meant nothing to Baekhyun.)

Even with Baekhyun in front of him now — with the small pout playing on his lips as he avoids Chanyeol’s imploring gaze — he still doesn’t really know. Is this banter all just part of another game?

“I didn’t know why you chose me. I didn’t… I didn’t want to find out I was just a plaything to pass the time.” Chanyeol’s never voiced that thought aloud. He’s never thought it’d be Baekhyun who he’d share those words with first. “It just didn’t make sense, you know? Why me?”

“Why you?” Baekhyun echoes. His lips are pursed in a thoughtful pout. It’s almost comical with that stupid party hat still on his head. “You caught my eye when you tripped over your own feet the first time you walked into the conference room. I liked your disastrous perm and the fact that your pants were a little short because your legs are too long for their own good. You were so cute when I riled you up, made you nervous.”

Chanyeol had known Baekhyun had targeted him, known that his responses only egged the other on. He’d swallowed all of Chanyeol’s nervous mumblings with his lips, and giggled into his neck before his hands wandered lower. Baekhyun knew all the right buttons to push, and Chanyeol always responded. It should hurt to hear it confirmed, but Baekhyun doesn’t stop there. 

“But then, I started to really like the way you smiled after I kissed you -- the way your eyes stayed half closed and your tongue poked out from between your teeth. I liked the fact that you remembered my favorite noraebang song and set it as my ringtone.” Baekhyun laughs to himself and shakes his head. He’s still cute. So cute. “I knew I was going crazy when I started to appreciate the mess that is your apartment and that stupid ‘World’s Best Dad’ mug you’re so fond of.”

“Jongdae broke it three months ago,” Chanyeol sulks. It had been a gag gift, his favorite coffee mug. He never knew Baekhyun noticed. 

“Well, then we’ll have to make him buy you a new one.” Baekhyun smiles through his shiver. Something about the way Baekhyun says ‘we,’ the way he’s just told Chanyeol that maybe Chanyeol made him just as crazy, sends Chanyeol’s heart into overdrive. Chanyeol watches as Baekhyun’s eyes fall a little, and he smiles through a weak shrug. “When I got that text, I wasn’t angry with you or anything. I just thought we were maybe…”

Joonmyun’s excited shout of “Five minutes to midnight!” from inside interrupts Baekhyun. Chanyeol blinks rapidly, _maybe we were what?_

“It’s too cold to stay out here, anyway.” Baekhyun mumbles shyly. He turns back to the screen door, and Chanyeol half expects Baekhyun to leave him there; to end the conversation with the last word finally his, and walk out of his life forever. 

Instead, Baekhyun gestures inside with his head and a small smile. “You coming?” 

 

Whatever dark cloud that might have been hanging over them before vanishes as they cross the threshold into the warm living room. Baekhyun’s cheeks have a slight blush — either from the alcohol or the sudden shift in temperature — as he waves to someone across the room. Jongdae has managed to pry the microphone from Joonmyun’s hands, and the sound system has resumed it’s playlist of top 40 hits. 

Chanyeol’s unsure if he should still be following Baekhyun and his shiny cardboard hat to the bar for another glass of champagne, but he does anyway. It’s like second nature to follow Baekhyun, to run with his whims. There’s a tug on his sleeve before Baekhyun gestures over the corner where his friend Sehun is now hunched over. A shriek is heard from across the room before Jongdae’s rushing towards the corner with paper towels. 

“Looks like you won.” Chanyeol looks down at Baekhyun, whose eyes are lit up in joy at the scene. He claps his hands in glee before turning to Chanyeol with the same wide smile on his face. It’s the kind of smile that makes Chanyeol’s breath stop in his throat, and all he can do is stare back as Baekhyun’s eyes crinkle even further shut. 

“I’m glad I ran into you tonight,” Baekhyun says genuinely through his smile, and Chanyeol’s heart falls into his stomach. “I made 10,000 won. Now pay up.”

Chanyeol produces his billfold, and passes a crisp 10,000 won note to Baekhyun. His fingers brush against Chanyeol’s wrist -- definitely not on accident -- and Chanyeol draws a lip between his teeth. “I’m glad you’re here, too. It’s good to see you.” _Have you thought about me?_ Chanyeol wants to ask, but it doesn’t feel right. 

“Is it weird to say I’ve missed you?” Baekhyun ventures, much more quietly. His hand still lingers between them, holding the 10,000 won note, but looking like it wants to reach for more. Maybe the champagne is finally getting to Baekhyun. Chanyeol can smell the alcohol on his tongue as he leans into Chanyeol’s bubble. He can see the vulnerability in Baekhyun’s eyes as he tries to read Chanyeol. 

“Is there really that much to miss?” Chanyeol tries to joke. But he misses Baekhyun, too. Misses the games of footsie under the boardroom table, the slight brush of fingers against his neck in the elevator. Baekhyun’s about as subtle as a gunshot with his words, but his actions had always been so discreet, so quiet. Yet, Chanyeol still remembers the whispers of them against his skin, especially with Baekhyun so close again. 

They’d only had a month. One month of boring boardroom negotiations and staff dinners before the contract was signed and Baekhyun and his associates filed out of the boardroom for the last time. One month of sneaking around, of Baekhyun telling the cab driver only Chanyeol’s address with a wink as they left restaurants; one month of Baekhyun chasing Chanyeol down, sneaking into his life bit by bit. 

Baekhyun laughs fondly at Chanyeol’s question, pulling him back to the present. It’s been a year since then, since Baekhyun threw off the quiet rhythm of his daily life with his obnoxious snoring and a second coffee mug in his kitchen sink some mornings. It’s off putting because in a way it’s like no time has passed at all, and maybe Baekhyun should hate Chanyeol, should hold everything against him. 

“Kind of, yeah. I don’t think I ever got around to telling you before, but I still think you’re kind of great.” 

“I…”

Jongdae’s booming voice interrupts again before Chanyeol can finish. Maybe this is how he’s exacting his revenge? “Alright everyone, less than a minute to midnight! Find someone to kiss!” 

Joonmyun is probably tucked under Jongdae’s arm, blushing and groping to the best of his inebriated ability. But Chanyeol can’t see any of it, because he only sees the way Baekhyun is watching him -- asking him something with his eyes. Baekhyun, always so inviting with his playful smile and the secretive gleam in his eyes that Chanyeol may never be able to fully decipher. 

 

_30, 29, 28…._

“Are you seeing anyone?” 

“Uh, not right now.” 

_21, 20, 19…_

“So then we could…”

Chanyeol blushes.“Yeah.”

_14, 13, 12..._

Baekhyun’s fingers are still cold from the midnight air as they brush against Chanyeol’s neck. His eyes search Chanyeol’s and they share a breath. 

It’s just New Years. Everyone kisses someone, no one will read anything into it. Except, Chanyeol knows, his heart may not be so willing to pass it off as a drunken midnight whim. He’s not even drunk. 

And yet, he leans in closer, searching Baekhyun’s face just as intently, waiting for any sign of retreat, any flash of uncertainty. 

_5, 4, 3…_

Baekhyun’s never uncertain with anything, though. 

“Stop twitching so much and kiss me.” 

_2, 1…_

 

The second their lips touch, any hope of being discreet seems to go out the window. Before Chanyeol can fully register what’s happening, Baekhyun’s fingers are threaded through his hair. Baekhyun’s lips are moving to deepen the kiss without a second thought. 

God how Chanyeol has missed this. Missed Baekhyun, his lips, his smile, that obnoxious laugh. There have been other kisses since, other dates, but no one that felt quite like this. He’s missed the way Baekhyun kisses him like Chanyeol’s his favorite secret. It had been that way when no one had been watching, and it’s the same now, even when they are. 

His hand falls to Baekhyun’s waist like it’s muscle memory; it fits just as well against his firm hip. 

The confetti poppers go off, people cheer, and a streamer lands in Chanyeol’s hair. He doesn’t care though, it’s all just a jumble of noise compared to Baekhyun, Baekhyun, _Baekhyun._ They never did this. Never kissed in front of people. It was always secret, hidden corners, Chanyeol’s apartment. 

Chanyeol tries to move his hand along Baekhyun’s jaw -- eager to touch more, hold on to this moment so Baekhyun won’t slip through his fingers again -- and groans when his fingers get stuck in the elastic band secured under Baekhyun’s chin. Sensing Chanyeol’s struggling, Baekhyun pulls away with a breathy giggle. 

His lips are still so, so close as he opens his eyes to beam at Chanyeol. 

“Your hat is ridiculous,” Chanyeol mumbles, embarrassed. Baekhyun just laughs, his fingers still tracing mindless patterns along Chaneyol’s pulse point. 

“Do you still live in Mapo?” Baekhyun whispers. His free hand reaches up to play with the elastic string, securing the hat in place only to tease Chanyeol. 

“Yeah.” Chanyeol knows what Baekhyun is asking, knows the implications. His eyes dart around the room, and he locks eyes with Jongdae. He’s acquired a red lipstick mark on his left cheek, and is giving Chanyeol a very enthusiastic double thumbs up. 

Chanyeol feels the warm sensation of Baekhyun’s fingers dancing along the back of his palm. “Want to get out of here?” 

“Okay.”

 

 

The high of the champagne starts to wear off in the quiet cab. Chanyeol’s hands itch in his lap, wanting to reach across the seat to play with Baekhyun’s hands, trail his fingers across his thigh. Baekhyun, too, sits with his hands playing in his lap, smiling over at Chanyeol every few seconds. 

They both know what’s coming once they exit the car. It’s nothing they haven’t done before. This time is just as ambiguous as all the others; _what are they now?_

Chanyeol’s breath stops short when there’s suddenly cold fingers tracing along the back of his hand. Before he has a moment to fully register what’s happening, Baekhyun’s fingers are threaded through his own in his lap. He glances over to Baekhyun in question, but Baekhyun is looking straight ahead, small smile on his lips. 

His thumb runs over the back of Chanyeol’s palm, calming Chanyeol’s nerves instantly. 

He doesn’t want to voice that this might be the first time they’ve done this -- held hands so innocently -- but he knows Baekhyun knows. If the victorious smile playing on his lips is any indication. 

 

 

Chanyeol’s half expecting to be pushed against the door as soon as it clicks shut. Instead, Baekhyun takes his time toeing off his shoes before turning to look at Chanyeol. His gaze is so intense as he looks Chanyeol up and down, before he reaches his hand forward to run through the hairs on Chanyeol’s forehead.

“Your hair is different now. I like it longer like this. Un- _permed_.” 

“I liked the perm.” 

“My grandma likes her’s too. Doesn’t mean it’s always a good idea.” 

Chanyeol wants to defend himself, but the words get stuck in his throat when Baekhyun’s fingers move to trace along his cheek. He’s biting his lip, his eyes swirling with _something_ , and maybe Chanyeol doesn’t need to mumble any more awkward sentences because Baekhyun is going to kiss him again. _Always getting the last word in, Byun Baekhyun._

Baekhyun takes his sweet time leaning in, maintaining eye contact. They share a small breath — a light giggle on Baekhyun’s part — before their lips meet for the second time. Both their lips are chapped from the dry winter air, but it’s okay because Baekhyun’s lips are just as plush as Chanyeol remembers them; his teeth just as sharp as he nibbles down on Chanyeol’s bottom lip. 

Thankfully, Baekhyun had ditched the party hat on Jongdae’s floor as they put on their coats. Now, Chanyeol can reach forward, trace his fingers along the skin of Baekhyun’s jaw like he’d wanted to half an hour ago. He feels Baekhyun’s pulse as his hand rests on Baekhyun’s neck. It’s fast, just like his own. Baekhyun’s lips press more insistently than Chanyeol’s own, more needy as he pushes himself forward, tugging Chanyeol by his collar. 

A familiar cologne crowds Chanyeol’s nostrils, and he frees his lips from Baekhyun’s to track the scent on Baekhyun’s neck. He wants to take it in -- inhale the perfectly _Baekhyun_ combination of spice and musk -- and feel Baekhyun’s heartbeat against his lips. Baekhyun’s hands busy themselves with sliding Chanyeol’s coat off his shoulders, they trace patterns along his chest that cause Chanyeol to shiver an exhale into Baekhyun’s neck. 

It must tickle, because Baekhyun lets out staccato giggles instantly. Chanyeol wants to stay right there, tasting Baekhyun’s skin, pulling reactions just like that one from him over and over again. His cheek brushes against the wool of Baekhyun’s coat, bottom lip ready to close over Baekhyun’s pulse point when his nose suddenly scrunches up. 

 

He manages to pull away just quickly enough to sneeze into the air behind Baekhyun. 

Embarrassed, he looks back at Baekhyun. The confusion of Chanyeol’s retreat is instantly replaced by a look of pure amusement, of fondness. 

“Ah, the return of sneezy.” His voice is so low, husky in a way that stirs Chanyeol’s gut. His cheeks burn. 

“Shut up.” 

Baekhyun steps back into Chanyeol’s space cautiously. His tugs his bottom lip between his teeth. Chanyeol’s eyes are too caught up in the way Baekhyun’s canines dig into the pink of his lips to notice the guilt in Baekhyun’s eyes. 

“I should have warned you, I probably have dog hair on my coat.”

“Why?” That would explain the sneeze. Chanyeol’s nose still tickles, but he fights the urge to sneeze again in favor of watching the expressions shift across Baekhyun’s face. 

“I might have… gotten a puppy.” Baekhyun bites his lip again, and Chanyeol wants to kiss it. But he also really needs to sneeze again. “I keep it at my parent’s though, so Mongryeonggie isn’t… around all the time.”

Baekhyun never says anything without purpose. However subtle the message is, it’s always clear. 

“But the fur is on this coat?” Chanyeol asks, scrunching his nose. His hands ache to reach out and touch Baekhyun again, to pull him closer, allergic reactions be damned. But, he also wants to be able to kiss Baekhyun without snotting all over him. 

Baekhyun can read Chanyeol’s inner turmoil, and mirth flickers in his eyes. He traces his fingers along the collar of his coat, tugging so that it falls slightly off his shoulder. 

“All the more reason for you to take it off, I’d say.” 

It’s a really tempting invitation, one Chanyeol definitely wants to take Baekhyun up on. But he also wants to be able to breathe -- be able to _breathe in Baekhyun_ \-- for however long he’s here. 

“Maybe you should do the taking off, and I’ll wash my hands.” Chanyeol suggests. 

Baekhyun acquiesces. “Okay. I’ll handle the coat. But I’m leaving the rest to you.” 

“Noted.” 

“Now go wash your hands. Meet you in the bedroom?” 

There’s so much promise in the words. Chanyeol can barely manage a nervous nod before Baekhyun is shoving him in the direction of the kitchen sink with a smirk. 

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

Somehow he should have expected the small trail Baekhyun left for him on the way to the bedroom. The light from the street outside illuminates the living room just enough for Chanyeol to make out the coat, the first sock, the second, and the belt that lead the way to his bedroom. 

Baekhyun is everywhere: in Chanyeol’s mind, scattered across his apartment, reclined against the head of Chanyeol’s bed with his head cocked cutely to the side. 

“All good?” 

“I took an allergy pill as a precaution.” 

Baekhyun nods in acknowledgment, but says no more. Instead he spreads his legs a little wider, and wordlessly motions for Chanyeol to join him. The nightstand light has been switched on, and Chanyeol wants to stand for a moment and appreciate the sight before him -- a sight he honestly never had thought he’d see again. But Baekhyun is always impatient, always eager, and soon his cute inviting smile transitions into a more commanding pout. He pats the mattress beside him forcefully. 

It takes all of three strides for Chanyeol to be standing directly in front of Baekhyun. He’d been so sure three minutes ago, yet now he’s not sure what to do with his hands, which part of Baekhyun he wants to touch first, which parts of Baekhyun he _can_ touch. It’s been a long time, which has only allowed more nerves to slip into this familiar situation. 

“I’d really like you to kiss me again, Chanyeol. And if I have to stand up to make you do it, it will kind of defeat the whole purpose of me _lying_ on the bed waiting for you.” 

“Okay, okay,” Chanyeol laughs. Something about Baekhyun’s voice clears away the nerves. Baekhyun, so sure, so confident, so eager for Chanyeol to touch him. 

He leans down for the kiss, and he should have expected the instant tug of his collar. The world shifts, and Baekhyun’s now the one hovering over him. Baekhyun doesn’t do slow, he chases the instant gratification of Chanyeol’s already heavy breathing as his lips move along the column of his neck. His fingers deftly tug at Chanyeol’s buttons, trying to move the fabric out of the way as quickly as he can manage. 

While the world is still spinning for Chanyeol, his own hands tug at Baekhyun’s shirt. He pulls the fabric loose from Baekhyun’s pants, and slides his hands up under the dress shirt and runs his palms along the indentation of Baekhyun’s smooth back. His ondol isn’t turned on, but Baekhyun is always so warm. He doesn’t need any other source of heat right now. In fact, he only needs to feel Baekhyun’s skin against his own. 

It won’t be long now, Baekhyun’s already undone all of Chanyeol’s buttons while his teeth reach up to nip at Chanyeol’s ear. 

After some re-arranging, their shirts are tangled somewhere in the sheets, their pants are unbuttoned, and Baekhyun’s hand is sliding inside Chanyeol’s boxers, kneading his ass. It’s maddening, and so so satisfying as Chanyeol traces his fingers along each vertebrae of Baekhyun’s spine and feels the way Baekhyun’s body reacts and contracts with each motion. 

Chanyeol nips along Baekhyun’s neck, lifting himself a little so his hand and can feel Baekhyun’s semi-hard dick through his pants. He feels a soft gasp leave Baekhyun’s lips. 

“Touch me,” Baekhyun commands, breathless. His hands grip more incessantly on Chanyeol’s ass, his desperation breaking through. “Don’t... tease.” 

Chanyeol doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He slides Baekhyun’s pants and boxers down, all too excited. Baekhyun is heavy in his hand, his body weight heavy against Chanyeol’s hips, and he honestly doesn’t think it could get any better than this. That is, until Baekhyun mirrors Chanyeol’s actions. Baekhyun’s grip is more firm than his own, more confident. He knows how to touch Chanyeol, knows how Chanyeol likes to be touched -- even after all this time. 

Baekhyun’s nose nudges Chanyeol’s cheek, and Chanyeol swallows his labored breathing with his lips. It’s messier, this time. They kiss with their minds half gone in pleasure, their hands moving more frantically. Baekhyun’s fingers dig into Chanyeol’s forearm when his thumb rubs over the slit, and he opens his mouth in a silent gasp. Chanyeol takes the opportunity to trace his tongue along Baekhyun’s teeth the way he’s fantasized about doing for the better part of a year. 

Baekhyun, always so loud, always so confident, is unraveling underneath him. But Baekhyun is never one to surrender completely, he bites down on Chanyeol’s tongue, sucks it further into his mouth in an act of defiance. Chanyeol shudders, and kisses back with more force, more confidence because he knows _he’s_ the one riling Baekhyun up like this. He knows Baekhyun is getting dangerously close, and it’s all his doing. 

His weight falls into Baekhyun, and the small layer of sweat against both their skin brings them even closer. It’s good, so good when Baekhyun starts to thrust into his hand. He whines into Chanyeol’s lips and it sends another chill down Chanyeol’s spine. 

Chanyeol pulls back first, Baekhyun still clinging to him with a hand in his hair, a hand around his dick. It takes a moment for Baekhyun’s eyes to open. He looks confused for a fraction of a second before a glimmer of affection flashes across his features. 

This position is so familiar, but so exciting at the same time. Byun Baekhyun in his bed, Baekhyun laughing into his sheets, and trailing his fingers across Chanyeol’s everything. 

“Do you wanna…?” Chanyeol struggles to reach for the lube in his bedside table. It only takes some stumbling, a few mumbled curses, before he’s passing the bottle and a condom packet to Baekhyun. 

Baekhyun pulls his kiss-swollen bottom lip between his teeth. 

“Actually, I was kind of hoping.. This time… you would…” 

“Oh, okay.” 

Chanyeol can count the number of times he’s topped Baekhyun on a single hand, and he knows Baekhyun means more by the gesture than just pure want. This is a little piece of himself he’s giving to Chanyeol, he’s saying something more -- like always -- with the simple request. He’s showing Chanyeol that this is something more than before. _This time it’s different._

Baekhyun leans further into the pillow, spreading his legs wider to accommodate Chanyeol. There’s still so much Chanyeol has to discover about Baekhyun, he remembers, as he watches the vulnerable blinking of the man below him. He knows the Baekhyun who teases, who pushes, who riles Chanyeol up for kicks. 

And maybe now is his chance to get to know the Baekhyun who stutters out the quiet command of “get on with it,” without all the vibrato Chanyeol’s become accustomed to. This is the Baekhyun Chanyeol never got to know before; the one who’s maybe just as nervous and unsure as he is. 

The one who wants Chanyeol, and not just to play with Chanyeol. 

He tries to warm the lube in his hands before his first finger traces around Baekhyun’s entrance. He kisses Baekhyun’s nose to calm his own racing thoughts. Baekhyun’s breath hitches as his body accepts Chanyeol’s finger, pulling him in, drawing them even closer. Chanyeol’s movements become more sure as Baekhyun’s hand finds his own against Baekhyun’s thigh. 

The second finger isn’t as easy as the first, and it takes several moments of sliding his fingers in and out before he can scissor them inside Baekhyun. Baekhyun squirms, half lidded eyes watching Chanyeol, teeth biting into his lip. Chanyeol wants to kiss Baekhyun more. Chanyeol is going to kiss Baekhyun more. 

The shift to connect his lips proves to be beneficial, because just as their lips touch Chanyeol’s fingers brush against Baekhyun in a new spot. A sound so low, so delicious, falls from Baekhyun’s lips, and his shoulders shudder with the sudden shock of pleasure. It’s mesmerizing, and new, and wow Chanyeol’s missed this. 

“Do that again,” Baekhyun barely manages to say before he’s tugging Chanyeol back in, kissing him more desperately as he tries to roll his own hips into Chanyeol’s hand. Baekhyun’s never been this needy before, this desperate. Baekhyun’s not even touching Chanyeol and he can still feel himself hardening more with each moan that comes deep within Baekhyun’s throat. 

Chanyeol works Baekhyun up to the third finger, and Baekhyun grinds down on his fingers like his life depends on it. His jaw is slack, his breathing shallow and Chanyeol can’t wait to watch him come undone like this; with just his fingers, his lips and his hands. He could do it, if he wanted. But Baekhyun obviously wants more, _needs_ more and Chanyeol is all too willing to oblige him. 

“Stop, stop.” Baekhyun pushes a hand against Chanyeol’s chest. His mouth opens and closes a few times trying to find the right words, his eyes trying to find Chanyeol’s through the fog of lust and need. “I’m gonna come now if you don’t stop.”

Baekhyun’s fully hard, and Chanyeol hasn’t even touched him there in several minutes. It’s exhilarating. But, he sees the desperation in Baekhyun’s gaze, and withdraws his fingers in favor of reaching for the condom. 

Baekhyun’s eyes don’t leave Chanyeol’s as he slides the condom on. He reaches a hand to help Chanyeol along, but his palms are too shaky to really be of much help. So, he spreads his legs further, grips for Chanyeol’s arm as Chanyeol begins the slide in. His body accepts Chanyeol with a little resistance. Chanyeol watches his brows scrunch in what’s sure to be a combination of discomfort and pleasure. 

His breath is shallow as he bottoms out. Baekhyun’s chest heaves below him with each breath, his eyes shut as he regulates it. He’s beautiful, truly.

“Hey.” Chanyeol whispers once Baekhyun’s eyes open to focus on him. It’s silly and awkward, but he feels the need to say something, anything. 

“Hey.” Baekhyun smiles right back. “Get back here,” Baekhyun pouts cutely, trying to pull Chanyeol closer with his legs around Chanyeol’s hips. Chanyeol shifts inside of him, and Baekhyun’s hands reach up to tug at Chanyeol’s ears impatiently.

“Just let me… have my moment.” Breathing is difficult right now; speaking in coherent sentences even more taxing. But Baekhyun understands instantly, his hands falling from Chanyeol’s ears to trail along his neck, across his shoulders. He wants to just _look_ at Baekhyun, take him all in for a moment, just like this. 

“Missed me that much?” Baekhyun teases with confidence, but there’s a breathiness in the question that exposes more than Baekhyun usually would. 

Chanyeol doesn’t really think he needs to answer. Baekhyun knows. He can tell in the way Chanyeol’s arms shake with too much excitement, too many nerves. He can see it in the way Chanyeol’s eyes never leave his own, half staring in disbelief, half fond with nostalgia and contentment. 

“Okay, I’ll say it again then. I missed you.” 

Chanyeol can’t formulate a response, his heart beating in his chest in a funny way that apparently only Baekhyun can make happen. 

And so, Chanyeol kisses him, deeply, with purpose. He tugs Baekhyun closer as he rolls his hips, appreciating the small moan that escapes Baekhyun’s lips as his hands search for purchase on Chanyeol’s back. 

Baekhyun clings too close for Chanyeol to do anything but thrust shallowly for a few minutes. Baekhyun’s lips are too insistent against his own for Chanyeol to think of much else. Chanyeol knows Baekhyun is distracting himself while he adjusts, while they find a rhythm. 

“You can go faster,” Baekhyun finally prompts. His tongue pokes out to lick Chanyeol’s lips. 

His arms are weak as he raises himself, giving himself some leverage over Baekhyun. He watches Baekhyun’s expressions as he experiments with the force of his thrusts, waiting to find that same perfect expression he’d seen on Baekhyun’s face when his fingers were inside of him. 

Baekhyun’s hands are everywhere. His warm fingers dance along the dips of Chanyeol’s spine, wind through his hair, pull him closer to connect their lips as Chanyeol’s pace quickens. He won’t last long like this, not when Baekhyun is clouding his every thought. Not when he can feel the warmth of being inside Baekhyun, the stickiness between their bodies, Baekhyun’s warm breaths against his lips. 

They’re flush against one another, Baekhyun’s dick hard between them. Chanyeol’s hips cant with an instinctual rhythm that matches Baekhyun’s breathing, his heartbeat. It’s sensational, ominously fleeting, and perfect. Chanyeol could chase this moment forever. He could drown in Baekhyun’s sweet gasps and the bruises he can already feel from where Baekhyun’s fingers press into his hips the hardest. 

“Cumming… soon…” Baekhyun’s not fairing much better than Chanyeol. His hand reaches between them, tugging himself in tandem with Chanyeol’s thrusts. “Come with me,” Baekhyun directs with as much authority as he can. Baekhyun doesn’t do begging, and Chanyeol knows the desperation in the command is as close as he’ll ever get to Baekhyun asking nicely. 

He won’t tease Baekhyun. As much as he wants to draw this moment out, drown in it forever, his own orgasm is approaching too quickly to fight. He wants to come, too. He wants to feel Baekhyun clench around him, and maybe breathe out his name in another weak gasp. 

A few more motions; Baekhyun whines deep in his throat, and Chanyeol’s arms give out fully. One last purposeful thrust, and Baekhyun’s head rolls back into the pillow. Chanyeol wants to watch every movement on his face, but his eyes scrunch shut with the force of his own orgasm. His head falls to the junction of Baekhyun’s shoulder and neck. Everything is too warm, too much. Cum pools between their bodies as Baekhyun’s hand moves languidly, milking the last of his orgasm before he can fully open his eyes. 

“Whoa,” Chanyeol says dumbly. He’s boneless, and exhausted, but so so content right where he is, with Baekhyun in his arms. 

Baekhyun’s fingers thread through Chanyeol’s hair. He can’t see the satisfied smile on his face, but he can hear it in his voice. “That was nice.”

“Nice?” Chanyeol rolls off Baekhyun; he slides the condom off and tosses it to the floor. 

“Wonderful, fantastic, sexy, best sex I’ve ever had on New Years…” Baekhyun rattles off sleepily into the sheets. 

Baekhyun looks up at Chanyeol with a coy smile. His hand moves to trace along Baekhyun’s naked shoulder without thinking. “Okay, okay. I get it.” 

Baekhyun leans into the touch, but the movement causes him to groan. “God, I’m going to be sore tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Chanyeol’s glad Baekhyun can’t see the small flicker of pride that plays on his face.

“I haven’t done that since… well, since _you_.”

“Had sex?”

Baekhyun raises an eyebrow. Dumb question, Chanyeol realizes. “No, not sex. Bottoming though. It’s been a while.” 

“Oh.”

“But I liked it.” Baekhyun snuggles closer, uncaring of the spunk between them. He’s cute like this, so satiated with his messy hair and droopy eyes. “I’d be willing to let you do it again. Or maybe just finger me, that was pretty fucking great, too.” 

Chanyeol shouldn’t blush. It had been his hands that did that to Baekhyun, made him moan so deliciously into his ear. His heart beats with pride while his cheeks flush red. _‘Again.’_

Maybe it’s the confidence of the orgasm, or the way Baekhyun is giggling sleepily into his shoulder that prompts him to ask a question he’s wanted to voice since the first time Baekhyun kissed him. 

“Go on a date with me, Baekhyun?”

Baekhyun doesn’t still against him like he’d anticipated. Instead, he kisses Chanyeol’s shoulder. “A date?”

“A real date. A restaurant, dinner, conversation. You know, all the stuff we skipped before.”

He feels Baekhyun smile against his skin. Another kiss. “I could agree to that.”

Chanyeol tucks his bottom lip between his teeth, feeling the warmth already flooding his cheeks at the question he’s about to ask. “Could we… hold hands, too?”

Baekhyun blinks away his momentary confusion before the usual sparkle breaks through his sleepiness. “We can do more than hold hands.” 

Chanyeol knows that Baekhyun knows why he’s asking, why something so innocent would matter to him this time around. 

“I want to do it right this time,” Chanyeol mumbles, turning his head to fully read Baekhyun’s reaction. “I don’t want to sneak around or only see you after 10pm. I want… I want to try.” 

Baekhyun smiles and runs his palm along Chanyeol’s cheek affectionately. 

“I always wanted to try with you, Chanyeol,” Baekhyun clicks his tongue. “No running away this time, okay?” 

“No games this time, either?” He counters, more serious than before. He doesn’t want to be a plaything. He thinks he’s read the signs right this time, but he has to be sure. 

A familiar, devious smile spreads across Baekhyun’s lips -- though it’s half fogged with drowsiness. “Even if they’re sexy games?”

“ _Baekhyun_.” 

“Okay, okay.” Baekhyun throws a leg over Chanyeol, situating himself impossibly closer. They’ll need to pull a blanket over themselves soon or they’ll freeze in the January cold. But for now, Chanyeol is content just like this. “No games.” 

Chanyeol drifts off to sleep at 3am on January 1st with a warm body snuggled perfectly against him, with Baekhyun’s beautiful fingers woven tightly between his own. 

And maybe this year, he thinks, they’ll get it right. 

 

 

_And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere,_  
_And gie’s a hand o’ thine,_  
_And we’ll tak a right guid willie-waught_  
_For auld lang syne!_

**Author's Note:**

> and for some reason i still try to write smut every once in a while. Anyway, this is just a silly little thing that turned out to be less little than i anticipated. I wrote this mostly as an exercise in dialogue and subtext. so, please be kind.
> 
> comments and kudos make me smile. I'm also on [twitter if you ever want to say hello.](https://twitter.com/chelmarr)


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